I always knew I liked boys. Since I was just a kid, pure and innocent, and didn't see a problem in that. I mean, what was the big deal? My friends liked girls, and I liked boys. To me, it was nothing. I thought that it was nothing to everyone else as well. Until the day I stopped thinking that way. Until the day I realized that, yes, there was a problem.
I was nine years old back then. I remember sitting in a circle with all my friends at lunch time. We were talking about our favorite cartoons. Soon, they were talking about the female character of a cartoon. They said that she was very pretty and that they wanted to be her special friend. So, I, being the innocent kid that I was, blurted out:
"I like the boy"
Four words that meant no harm. But suddenly, all eyes were on me. I still wasn't scared or ashamed. Again, what was the big deal? I didn't care that my friends liked girls. I supposed they wouldn't care I liked boys either.
"What do you mean?" My friend asked me with eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"I mean that he is very pretty" I explained innocently "And I would like to be his special friend. Not hers"
The second my explanation left my mouth, I was a complete stranger. I will never forget the look in my friends' faces. They were looking at me like I was an alien. Something they had never seen before. A puzzle they couldn't solve. Different. Weird. And they made me feel that way.
The rest of the day, they didn't know how to act around me anymore. How to talk to me, play with me, or even look at me. I didn't understand what was going on. I guess I was kind of slow back then. All day I just kept thinking 'What have I done wrong?', 'Are they mad?', 'Did I say something I wasn't supposed to?'. I didn't have the answers.
But, apparently, my friends knew what to do. They did what whatever little kid does when finds a problem at school. They told my teacher. And my teacher did whatever teacher (that teaches children, of course) does when they found an issue with a student. She told my mother.
I remember being sat on the bench, bouncing my legs up and down, waiting for my mother to pick me up. But, when I looked up from my lap, I saw that my mom was already there. I was about to get up, run to her and give her a hug, but I stopped where I was the moment I saw the look on her face. My teacher was in front of her, talking a lot, gesturing a lot. My mom just nodded, with concern written on her face, and I dare to say, disappointment. She looked so frustrated and I hated that look. I will never want to see my mom look so sad and disappointed ever again. She looked between me and my teacher, but when her eyes met mine, she always averted her gaze as fast as she could.
When my teacher waved my mom goodbye, I was waiting for her to say goodbye to me too. She always did with all her students. But she didn't. She passed right past me and didn't dedicate me a glance. Like I was not even there.
Again, I didn't understand what happened, but I just got up and reluctantly walked over to my mom. I was expecting a hug, like always, but she entered the car before I could say a word. I pouted at her change of behavior, but got in the backseat of the car the same way.
She started driving in silence, and that was killing me.
"Mamma, are you mad at me?" I asked while played with my fingers on my lap, afraid of her answer.
But she didn't answer me. She pulled over and took a deep breath, to calmly say:
"We need to talk. And our talk needs to remain a secret. Your father and siblings could never know, do you understand?"
I nodded, but realized that she wasn't looking at me.
"Yes"
She nodded too, more to herself than to me. She wasn't saying anything while I patiently waited for her to say what was going on. Maybe she had the answer to my friends and my teacher's weird behavior. Maybe she had the answer to her weird behavior.
"Is it true that you... that you like..." She cleared her throat "That you like boys?"
I frowned, more confused than ever. Yes, it was true. But what did that have to do with everything that was going on?
"Yes..." I said slowly.
"Jesus" She breathed out and finally turned around to look at me "But you need to stop it" Her voice was firm and I knew that that was an order.
I blinked. What? It wasn't like one day I woke up and thought 'Hmm, what a great day to start liking boys'. I just liked them. It never had a start. How could I lead that to an end? And more importantly, why did I have to? It's not like I did anything wrong. To me, it was just a normal thing. Normal like my friends liking girls, I liked boys.
"Why?"
She let out a nervous laugh that gave me goosebumps.
"Honey, boys need to like girls. And girls need to like boys. It's the law of nature. Boys liking boys is wrong. You need to understand that. It's a fact. God wanted that way. If you like boys, God will be very disappointed and will punish you. You don't want that, do you?"
I didn't. My family always taught me things about religion. But I only had caught the important things: there was a God who created everything. God was good. And all He wanted was for us to be good too. For us to love and care for each other. I had never paid attention to the fact that God would punish a love between a boy and another boy. I had never thought that it was a fact, actually. But if my mom was telling me that... Probably it was. My mom was the wisest person I knew, and everything she told me, I believed. I guess all the kids are like this.
So I promised my mom I would stop liking boys and start liking girls. She made me tell my friends that they understood everything wrong, that I didn't mean I was interested in boys. She had a talk to my teacher to explain everything had been taken care of. And just like that, everything became normal again. My mom was the same. My teacher was the same. My friends were the same. But the problem was... I was the same too.
Since that day, it became clear to me that the way I felt was wrong and nothing but wrong. My mind had a simple thought: stop liking boys and start liking girls, and people would be the same to me, and God wouldn't have to punish me. But I couldn't stop. My simple child mind thought that it would be like turning off a button. But there was no button.
I grew listening to my friends talk about the girls they found were pretty. And then they began to talk about the ones they wanted to kiss. Suddenly, the ones they kissed. After that, more than kisses. I paid attention and tried to put myself in their places. I watched the girls and made strength to like them. To see them that way. Of course, I thought some were pretty. But I didn't feel anything.
I tried so hard. But there's no such thing as trying when is impossible to make yourself feel something that just isn't there. And in the movies, in the TV shows, I always wanted to kiss the male actors, not the actresses. My friends had a crush for some girls, and I had a crush for some boys. It was a fact. I couldn't change that. And that was killing me inside, more and more each day.
I felt like stuck in myself. I was a way, but I couldn't be at the same time. And I had to hide from everybody else. And I felt such a sinner all the damn time. So strange. Different. I wanted to stop and it didn't stop. And there was nothing I could do about it. Stuck. No exit. Forever. I had no control over myself. Over my own feelings. Over my own body, for God's sake.
Somehow, I felt like I was burying me inside of myself. Suppressing everything I felt and everything I thought. I was drowning. And I would have to live without air for the rest of my life. I would have to learn how to survive that way.
It was agonizing. Pure agony. And I couldn't share with anyone. I had this burden to carry on my own.
I was alone.
And I would be that way for the rest of my life.